


Oculos

by writerstrash



Series: Mr. Stark & His Kid [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Irondad, Some Fluff, Tired Peter, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Whump, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-17 13:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerstrash/pseuds/writerstrash
Summary: New York has a virus and those infected can't sleep. Peter is slowly losing his mind.





	Oculos

Peter knew how important sleep was. He had gone many days without sleep before in his life due to a range of all-nighters (video games with Ned, building Lego with Ned, Star Wars marathons with Ned, fighting crime as Spider-Man) and knew how it affected him. If it were up to him, he would be asleep right now recharging his body and brain from the latest Spider-Man mission he had earlier in the day. He had been running around in the sewers most of the day and his suit was getting a much needed clean. 

So Peter gave up trying to sleep, pulling himself from his bed and moving to sit by his window, pushing it open to feel the chill breeze against his skin. Something didn't feel right. Something felt off about his body. But maybe he just really needed a good night's sleep.

Peter had no idea that would be the first night of many. That it would get so much worse. People throughout the city were slowly losing their minds and so was Peter. 

* * *

Tony and Bruce were looking at the screens in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was going on. New York had a rat problem, that was old news, but these rats were something else. Deep beneath the city streets, a completely new kind of rodent lived. 

"Well, the data matches up," Bruce shook his head. "The bloodworm from the patients match perfectly,"

"So New York has hundreds of people in hospital right now from a rat bite?" Tony asked. "Don't they give antibiotics for that?"

"They have," the scientist explained. "It treated the inflammation from the bite, but that's all. And not everyone had any puncture wounds or even a sign they had been bitten."

"But none of them can sleep?"

"None of them can sleep," Bruce nodded.

"Rat bite insomnia?"

Bruce turned to the glass containment pod they had in the middle of the lab, looking at the rat inside. It looked completely normal. A little disgusting and covered in dirt, but normal. 

"They're infected, somehow," Bruce thought. "Infected with something...foreign,"

"Alien?" 

"Could be,"

"What else could it be? I have Friday running scans through the water systems and testing the air in the city and sewers,"

"We won't know more until we get the results," Bruce sighed. "I'm gonna take more blood samples and get some information from the hospitals,"

Tony and Bruce both nodded in understanding of what needed to be done. Right now, they didn't have answers. All they knew was people weren't sleeping and it was a much bigger deal than it might have seemed. A few days without sleep would send people loopy. Any more would send them insane and eventually people would die. 

* * *

Another day passed before Tony saw Peter. 

New York hospitals had patients in quarantine and city-wide warnings were issued. The rat bites seemed to be dropping thanks to the tripling of effort from disease control and pest control. But those infected were getting worse. There were car accidents daily due to the sleep-deprived trying to drive. People were losing basic thoughts and reflexes and the city was slowly turning into a chaotic scramble. Bruce and Tony knew things were getting worse by the hour now, and they had to work faster. 

But it wasn't just them. Tony and Bruce were working with the health department and government agencies to share data and possible cures for the virus, and although nothing was working yet, they were finding ways to slow the effects of sleep-deprivation and hallucinations.

It was their lab day and although Tony was focused on bigger things than suit upgrades, he figured Peter could help out analysing the data. That, and he knew the kid looked forward to lab days the most. So did he. 

"Boss?" Happy's voice filtered into the room. "The kid's upstairs,"

"Tell him to come down," Tony instructed.

Peter normally came down on his own without invitation.

"Uh, you might wanna come up here instead, Tony," 

Tony looked up from the microscope he was peering through. 

"Kinda busy Hap, what's up?" Tony asked, testing the situation.

"Kid doesn't look to good,"

Tony was out the door immediately. Bruce watched him go, glancing over his glasses, before he stood and followed the man. There were a lot of scenarios running through Tony's mind as he made his way upstairs. Horrible, terrifying scenarios. Every day he feared Peter would be injured on patrol, that he would be shot or stabbed or hit by a car or get a concussion. Since having Peter in his life, Tony really did have an understanding of the worries and fears parents held for their children. 

When he made it to the living room, he saw Happy sitting on the couch with Peter lying beside him, head in the man's lap. His eyes were red and surrounded by dark, stormy clouds all over his skin. His hair was sweaty as Happy pulled it back from his forehead and as soon as Peter saw Tony, he began sobbing.

But Tony just stood there, eyes wide and heart racing.

_No._

_No._

_Not Peter. _

Tony knew too much about what this virus did. He knew, in depth, the pain that Peter was feeling right now. He knew how it hurt, how it was impossible to soothe, how it felt like the body was shutting down. How it _was _shutting down.

"Tony," Happy called out. "Hey, Tony?"

Bruce approached, quickly catching up with the situation. 

"Peter..." he softly gasped. "Oh, no,"

"M-Mr. Stark," Peter called out weakly. "I'm s-sorry,"

Tony kicked back into gear at the sound of Peter's sad, pained voice. He hurried over, dropping to the floor in front of him and taking his face in his hands. Peter cried harder at the touch, desperate for comfort. 

"Oh, kid..." Tony whispered, running his thumb over the boy's cheek, glancing back up at Happy. "Was he like this when you picked him up?"

"He was at home. Had to almost carry him down to the car. Told his aunt he went to school. May's swamped at the hospital-"

"D-don't tell Aunt May, please," Peter begged. "Please, I can't...please don't upset her with this,"

"Shh, hey, calm down Pete," Tony soothed. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know, I didn't mean to-"

"This isn't your fault. Hey, buddy, please don't work yourself up," Tony sighed. "I'm not mad, no one's mad,"

Peter seemed to calm at that, but his eyes were still red with tears. With lack of sleep. With pain. 

"How long have you been like this?" Tony asked, dreading the answer.

Peter was also dreading the answer.

"Uh, it was, I think..." he mumbled. "I told Happy but I can't...remem-"

"Four days," Happy told him. "Hasn't slept in four days,"

Tony's heart was breaking.

"Pete, why didn't you tell me when this started?"

"I didn't know," the boy admit. "Just...just thought I couldn't sleep. Sometimes I get that. But not...not like this,"

"There's nothing like this," Bruce explained. "It's not just you, Pete. Did you get bitten?"

"Maybe, I don't know, I can't remember. I was underground looking for...ugh, I can't remember!"

"That's okay," Bruce spoke softly. "Some people don't know if they were bitten. Have you been eating?"

Peter tried to think back to what he did that day, and the day before.

"Uh, I had some leftover pizza last night," he mumbled. "Or...could have been today, or the other day..."

Tony looked up to Bruce with pleading eyes. They both knew there was no cure. Not yet. Some ridiculous part of Tony's brain told him that there might have been a cure discovered in the last two minutes while they were up here with Peter. Maybe this could all be fixed. But reality took over quickly.

"Bruce..." he whispered.

The scientist was thinking, following Tony's worry. 

"I'll try some of the injection the Harvard team were working on, seemed to ease some of the joint pain," Bruce explained. "Then the drops for the eyes. I can set up an I.V for fluids and start scanning for anything that might be off from the other patients considering his healing ability and metabolism. He needs to eat, too."

Tony turned back to Peter, still running his hand over his face. 

"Hear that? You're gonna feel a bit better soon, Pete," Tony promised. "Then we'll get you some food. What do you feel like eating, buddy?"

"I just want to sleep," Peter cried. "That's all I want,"

"I know," Tony sighed. "I know, Pete. I'm so sorry. We're gonna find a way to fix this,"

Peter tried to move from Happy's lap, sliding sideways to fall into Tony's embrace. His head laid against the man's shoulder and he closed his eyes in hopes of some rest. He knew it was impossible, but he always managed to fall asleep in Tony's arms. Whether it was after a battle, after a movie, after a late-night lab session or just a big day. But as soon as he had his eyes closed for longer than a few seconds, they began to burn.

Tony held him tight as Peter cried in exhaustion, unable to hold back any emotion. 

"I wish I could sleep," Peter moaned. "It hurts!"

Tony could feel himself getting choked up, trying to hold himself together.

"I'm sorry Pete,"

"I don't even know where I am," the boy admit, sadly. "I just know you're here,"

"That's right, I'm here, not leaving you," Tony assured, holding the boy tighter. "You're at the Tower, you're with me and Bruce and Happy,"

"Where's May?"

"May's at work buddy, but I can call her whenever-"

"No! Don't let her see me, please. Not until...not until I'm better,"

Tony's heart ached. 

He would make Peter better. If it killed him, if it kept him awake for days as well, he would fix this.

* * *

Peter barely ate. There was no appetite left in the boy, but he needed to eat. Bruce had given him the injection after he had finished half his sandwich and a full glass of water. He sat beside Tony, slumped against the man's shoulder, wrapped in his arm. Tony looked almost as bad as Peter, sick with worry.

"Stay with him, I'm going to go work on the samples we got," Bruce whispered, finishing up the eye drops for Peter.

"I need to help," Tony shook his head. "I have to help, I _have _to fix this,"

"Tony..." Bruce sighed. "You got me everything I need, okay? I can go do something with it now. You've done your part, now let me do mine,"

"I can't just sit here and do nothing-"

"You're not doing nothing," Bruce argued softly. "You _know _what he's going through right now. He feels unsafe, paranoid, he just wants comfort. Stay with him, help him, and I'll have something for you soon."

Tony admired Bruce's optimism. As much as Tony knew, as unrealistic as it was to expected a cure in a matter of hours, he needed Bruce's positivity. 

Peter groaned in discomfort as he was moved to the point of Tony having to pick him up, cradling him to his chest awkwardly as he walked them through to the living room. He had the lights lowered for Peter's sensitive eyes, and he carefully lowered them down onto the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows. Everything one would need for a good rest. 

Except that rest just wouldn't come.

"Can you hear that? What is that?" Peter worried, shuffling in Tony's arms.

Paranoia. 

"Just Bruce working, Pete. You're okay," Tony assured.

"No, no it's something else," Peter whined. "Something's in the floor, I can hear it,"

"Nothing's in the floor-"

"I can hear it!" Peter argued. "You think I'm crazy too, don't you?"

Tony's heart was breaking.

He pulled Peter close once again, the boy's back comfortably against Tony's chest now.

"Hey, remember that movie we watched last week? You made me sit through The Incredibles, a _children's_ movie,"

Peter was quiet for a moment.

"You liked it, you were laughing,"

"I laughed at the adult jokes," Tony defended, unable to hold back his grin at the fact that Peter could remember.

Peter moaned and grumbled again, stretching his legs back and forth, tossing and turning. His body just wouldn't settle. Tony did his best to rub the boy's back, run his hands through his messy hair, whisper softly. 

"Mr. Stark?" 

"Yeah, kid?"

"H-how long is it gonna last?" 

"Pete..." he trailed off. "I don't know, buddy. I don't know,"

"I can't do it," Peter cried, once again breaking down. "I can't do it anymore, please, please, just make it stop. I don't care what you have to do..._please_ Mr. Stark!"

"I'm trying Pete, Bruce is trying, we're workin-"

"Am I gonna die?" he asked.

"No! No, you're not-"

"How long can someone stay awake before brain damage? Before they die?" Peter continued. "Because if I'm gonna die, just...do it now, please."

Tony knew what Peter was asking for. The pain, the suffering that came with sleep deprivation, was making Peter want to die. He didn't want to wait, he didn't want any more time like this. 

"Just...just hang...hang on a sec, kiddo," Tony mumbled, shuffling out from beneath the boy and making sure he laid back against the soft pillows.

He was still whining in pain as Tony hurried away, rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. He made a point of turning on the shower before he hunched over the toilet, throwing up everything he had inside. His throat felt raw by the time he finished. 

Peter wanted to die, and Tony couldn't fix it.

* * *

Two more days passed. Peter was in bad shape.

The injections for his joints were working, but he needed triple doses to cut through his metabolism. Some infected patients were finally sleeping thanks to a cure from the World Health Organisation and the international efforts, but it wasn't working for everyone.

It wasn't working for Peter.

Now, the boy laid on the cool tiles of Tony's kitchen, just waiting. Waiting for everything to stop, one way or another.

"Do it again," Tony yelled at the room. "Friday, run it again. Hundred times. Switch out variable H if it doesn't work, just..._make _it work,"

"Tony, let me finish it-"

"I have to do this," Tony shook his head. "I'm not leaving until we have something,"

"I'm close, Tony, I just need a little more time,"

"I don't have time, _he _doesn't have time," Tony pleaded. 

Bruce stared at the man, his eyes red and stinging as if he had the virus as well. But Tony got his tiny naps wherever he could. Never around Peter, and never for long at all. Enough to get him by. Enough to keep working.

Another two hours passed.

"Tony..." Bruce began, putting his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Go to Peter,"

"I can't...I can't go to him with _nothing_," Tony cried, rubbing his eyes. "I can't look at him and know that I can't help,"

"He needs you," Bruce encouraged. "It's been six days, Tony. He's....don't make him be alone,"

Tony's heart could not take this.

"Bruce..."

"I know," his friend sighed, hugging the man. "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm trying,"

"I can't lose him," Tony shook his head. "If he...then I might as well..."

"Go," Bruce told him, one last time. "Give him another shot, give him some ice chips, hold him,"

Tony could do that. He could hold Peter. He would hold him until the end of time if he had to. 

When Peter saw Tony, he started crying. He could barely remember why. He could barely remember who the man was. All he knew was that his heart was hurting, along with everything else. He reached a hand out and Tony pulled him into his arms, shuffling back until he was sitting back against the wall. Peter was splayed out in his lap, lying over him, a dead weight. 

"May..." Peter mumbled, his hand coming up to hold Tony's chin.

"She's not here buddy," Tony admit, his throat closing. "But she loves you _so _much, kiddo. I promise you that. You are so, so loved, okay? God, Pete, everyone loves you,"

Peter stared at him, eyes blank and face frozen, emotionless. 

"I...I love you," he slurred.

Tony could feel the tears running down his cheeks.

"I love you, Pete," he cried, softly. "And I'm so proud of you, buddy,"

"Sorry...m' sorry I can' s'ay,"'

"It's okay, you're okay,"

"Is it...is it almost...done?" he asked, hopeful.

Tony took a deep breath, feeling his lungs fill and stutter. He couldn't do this. How could he? 

How could he say goodbye to Peter?

"Yeah, yeah it's almost over," Tony assured, brushing back Peter's hair. "You're gonna feel better soon, okay?"

"Thank you...for tryin'," Peter moaned. "I know...I know you did,"

Tony pulled Peter closer to his chest, trying to even his breathing. He was fully crying now, and he didn't even mind that Bruce had walked in on them. The doctor didn't say a work as he knelt down by the boy, readying his injection. Tony was glad to rid him of the joint pain, but prolonging his suffering was a side-effect he just didn't know he could handle. Peter couldn't take anymore. 

Bruce emptied the syringe into Peter's veins, patting him on the shoulder once and giving the boy a fond look. Tony could see tears in his friend's eyes too, but he didn't look for long. He wanted to see Peter for as long as he could. Alive.

"There you go, kiddo," Tony smiled, running his thumb over Peter's soft cheek. "You're such a good boy, you know that? If I ever had a kid like you..." 

Peter let out a long groan of agony, moving his legs around, shuffling closer up Tony's chest until he was laying with his head over the man's heart.

"M-my...dad..." Peter whined, his voice shaky and weak.

Tony's heart basically stopped.

"I wish I was, Peter," he admit.

"Y-you are..."

Tony could barely see through his blurry eyes. 

From then on, Tony could tell that Peter was fading fast. The injection was too late, his body had grown intolerant. It was shutting down. 

Tony held him, rocked him slowly, running his hand through his hair and whispering soothing words.

_You're okay_

_You're safe, Pete. I've got you._

_You can go to sleep now, buddy. I'll be right here._

Ater a few minutes, Tony saw Peter's eyes drooping. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to scream and cry and break everything in the world. He wanted to destroy something, he wanted to get revenge, he wanted to fight. But he wasn't leaving the boy. 

"There you go," Tony whispered, his voice hoarse and pathetic. "Sleep now, buddy, I'll always be here holding you,"

* * *

Tony woke up, he didn't know how long he had been out, to a weight on top of his chest. He had slumped to the side, laying on the cold kitchen tiles, with Peter still in his arms. Peter. Peter's body was in his arms. 

For a few moments, Tony couldn't move. His body was panicking, his mind was panicking. 

Peter died. Tony held him through it and he's still here in his arms. Why hasn't Bruce come and woken him? They need to move his body, they need to...

The weight on his chest was warm. 

Tony reached up to cup Peter's cheek in his hand, feeling the soft heat of his skin. The man's eyes grew wide, heart hammering. 

"He's sleeping," Bruce whispered, standing on the other side of Tony's slumped form.

"He's...he's sleeping?" Tony repeated, confused.

"I tried the Harvard cure and added in the WHO chemicals and the compound you were working on. He needed something more complex to cut through his DNA,"

Tony stared at the boy, now sleeping peacefully.

"He's...oh my god,"

"It's gonna take a while to restore his body, but it's a good sign he's sleeping. Rest is the biggest thing for him right now,"

Tony couldn't take his eyes away from Peter.

"He's in a deep sleep, Friday's monitoring him," Bruce added. "You can take him to bed, keep the temperature nice and cool and I'll have food, vitamins and medication waiting for him when he wakes up,"

"I don't want to leave him,

"Then don't leave him," Bruce smiled. "You have a lot of rest to catch up on too, and I'm sure Peter won't want to wake up in a room alone,"

Tony peeled his eyes away for a moment to look at Bruce.

"Thank you," he nodded, tired eyes full of gratitude. "You saved him. You saved my kid,"

"So did you, Tony," Bruce reminded. "Grieving and tired, you saved him too,"

Peter took a deep breath in his sleep and Tony looked at him with worry, wondering if he was going to wake up. But he just nuzzled closer to Tony, lips parting in a soft snore.

"Keep sleeping buddy," Tony smiled, pressing a kiss to Peter's forehead. "I'll keep holding you, for as long as it takes,"


End file.
